sanctuary
by McMuffin
Summary: In the aftermath of the finale, all anyone wants is just a little bit of safety, a sanctuary. Alex/Lexie, Mark/Teddy, mentions of Mark/Lexie, Owen/Teddy, everyone.


_Uh, way to kill me, Grey's Anatomy. (totally not the right choice of words considering the finale, but whatever.) The finale was fucking perfect, in my opinion... and now I think if season 7 starts off like this, it will be even more perfect. Haha._

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* * *

_

"Today has been... _wow_," Mark utters into the stagnant air.

Teddy holds her head up on her elbows, her fingers threading together under her chin and her remaining limbs slump over the counter.

"Crazy? Destructive? Horrible? Horrific?" she mumbles, unable to find an adjective to describe the fuckery that has happened.

"Yeah..." he leans his back against the bench, looking through the glass at Lexie gripping onto Alex's drooping hand.

"I didn't think she loved him... I thought... I thought she was just with him to spite me... him being a Mini-Mark and all," he mumbles.

"What?" Her voice is tired, a drone.

"Mini-Mark? Oh, Karev used to be a major player like me-"

"No. I mean... he almost died. He almost _died_, and losing someone you love? It's scary. Very scary. It puts your priorities in order. If... if you don't know if you love someone, or if you don't know who you love, events like this, they put your life in perspective." She can be very persuasive at times with the tidbits she says.

"Oh."

"Yeah... She loves him, Mark, it just took him almost dying for her to realise that."

He lets his diaphragm relax. "I still love her."

"I know. And I know she did love you... she might still love you, but she wants Alex. And you have to put the history, the past, the friendship behind you."

"Friendship? Lexie and I were never friends. She was Meredith's little sister, and Derek banned - "

"Spare me the details," she sighs, rubbing her temples to ease the knots below the surface.

"What is up with you?" he mutters, a little pissed that she's possibly more self-involved than he is at this current moment.

"Oh, despite the people dying left right and centre today?"

"I..." he gulps,. "I didn't think this would affect you as much, seeing as you were in the army... you're used to situations like this."

"You're tactful," she mutters.

"I'm all tact, girl."

She rolls her eyes.

"Come on, you obviously need to talk... talk to me," he knows this is dangerous territory, but curiosity is fighting propriety, and who conforms to society's moral standards when a dozen people you know have been gunned down, anyway?

Teddy puffs out her cheeks and exhales, twisting a strand of blonde hair around her index finger.

"While yes, I am used to seeing violent crimes and experiencing high-stress life or death situations... I'm not used to guys with people-shooting-hats-on and friends-dying situations. And I never will be... used to them. I may see many friends die and be in many people-shooting-hat-guy situations, but I am not used to them, I'm not prepared for them, I'm not ready for them. So yes, they do affect me. A lot."

Mark nods, stunned for words, and knows that she is correct and he shouldn't have thought otherwise.

She groans and rests her cheek on the counter, the metal cool on her face, the edge indenting her skin.

"What else is upsetting you?"

"What?" Her voice bounces off the linoleum.

"There's something else on your mind."

"I..."

"I'm good at reading people," he sends a smirk to her posterior, the crick in his neck making it impossible to look any further, not that he's complaining.

"I… I'm in love with Owen." Teddy turns her head to face him, her eyes rimmed red.

"Really?" He sounds surprised, and this shatters her theory that she looks like a lovesick teenager twenty-four seven.

"Yes... and he loves me too."

"But he chose Cristina?" He supposes.

"He chose Cristina. And I... I'm okay with that, I will be..." She can't control the hitch in her voice, nor does she want to. She needs someone to listen to her inner turmoil.

"You're not prepared for situations like these." His voice is a mere whisper.

"No."

"Neither am I."

"Obviously."

Teddy gestures towards Lexie, where his hopeless stare still lingers. They watch the younger blonde lightly running her hand along Alex's chest, careful not to hit the maze edges of the wires covering him.

"I need to take my mind off of this," Mark states. Yet still his eyes smolder over Lexie's frame.

"I agree."

"Want to have sex?" He asks, while rolling his neck on his shoulders, hearing a pop and feeling an ease in the tension.

"What?" Teddy mumbles, rubbing her eyes to stop her blurring vision.

Mark breaks his stare and looks at her, reaching out to run his hand through her fresh hair.

"You heard me."

"I..."

"Come on, we can forget... everything... I can make you forget," he looks at her long and hard, breaking her.

"That is true."

"Come on."

He reaches down for her hand and tugs her along the corridor. "These red scrubs look great on you, by the way."

* * *

"Alex," Lexie breathes when his eyes quiver open.

"Ow," he mumbles, trying to move.

"Shh, don't move. You're at Seattle Presbyterian. You're safe... we're all safe. They caught the shooter." She moves closer to him, her face invading his personal bubble.

"You should go," he mutters, eyes closing again.

She's stunned. "What? I... no!"

"You should..."

"No, I'm staying." She sounds resolute.

"Go." He sounds tired.

"Why?"

"Go be with Sloan."

"I don't want Mark, I love you." The high-pitched tone she's talking in is increasing his throbbing headache, and if he didn't know she was on the verge of tears he'd be shouting.

"I..." He squeezes his eyes shut. Tight. "I called you Izzie."

"Yes, you called me Izzie. You... you were in pain."

"I called you Izzie... I'm not over Izzie... I -"

"She was your wife. She left you after you helped her beat cancer... I understand. You were dying, you were in pain, you mistook me for her... you were in pain." She pauses. "You were in pain."

"I love Izzie." Alex can't look at her right now, so he's looking anywhere else, anywhere else.

"I don't care. I love you. I nearly got shot getting the blood for your transfusion. I'd do anything for you. I love you. I love you." She pauses, probing him.

"I was in pain..." he whispers.

Lexie smiles. "_Yes_."

He sighs, "okay," and squeezes her hand, "ouch."

"How badly did that hurt?"

"Not a lot... it's just... sore. Nothing compared to before."

"Good," she smiles widely at him and he smiles back. "I love you."

"I'm so glad I'm alive."

* * *

Mark's hands work their way into Teddy's scrub pants while hers lock the door. She's pressed between him and the thin wood, and suddenly a combination of the inability to breathe reminds her of the recent deaths, and _everything_ hits her. She stops kissing him back and pushes on his chest.

"Teddy?" He withdraws his hands immediately.

"I can't do this right now," she mumbles, staring at the ground.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She looks up with tear-filled eyes. "I can't have sex right now... R-Reed's dead… and you had sex with her... and she's dead..."

"Reed's dead?" His eyes widen.

Her head bobs up and down. "The police told me. And… and Dr. Walker from neonatal is dead… and D-David the security guard wh-who always said hello to me is d-dead too… and n-nurse…"

Mark crushes her in his arms and she sobs into his chest, the words that skate over her lips falling off into a stream of amorphous sobs.

"I saved Alex's life today... he is alive. I," his voice cracks. "I saved the life of the man who's taking L-Lexie away from me... I... I saved him. I could have let him die."

"You're a doctor, you save lives. It's what we d-do," she manages.

It's hard to console a crying person when you're crying too.

"We save lives," he repeats.

She affirms this statement again and they cling onto each other, holding onto what sense of normalcy they can find. Her hair smells clean, the scent of soapy hospital shampoo invading his sinuses. He likes it. It's not bloody in the slightest. He's sick of smelling blood... as a plastic surgeon, he doesn't usually have to smell a lot of blood. As a heart surgeon, she does. But she too is sick of the smell of blood.

* * *

Lexie is in Alex's room, sipping on a juice box and chewing nervously on the straw as Mark reads out her boyfriend's vitals.

"Looking good Karev," he says. "You'll be transferred back to Seattle Grace this afternoon."

"Thank god," Alex mutters.

Lexie gives Mark a tentative smile and he sends an awkward one back.

"Take care of her, Karev... when you're better," the older man says, rather fluently considering the situation.

"I will."

Mark leaves the room, and Lexie exhales, but continues to chew on the straw.

"You're getting better... healing."

"Yeah..." He eyeballs her, and notices her trembling. "Are you okay?"

She closes her eyes, giving him the briefest shake. "I finally spoke to... the chief... Richard. He says... Derek was shot."

"_What_?" Alex pushes himself to sit up, something he definitely shouldn't have done as it leaves him groaning. Lexie continues to speak, her voice coming out in gasps and her hands shaking violently.

"And Meredith h-had a miscarriage... and Percy was shot... he died... and Reed died... and Owen was shot when Cristina was operating on Derek."

Alex's eyes are wide, and she feels terrible for having to tell him when he's injured, but he told her before that he had his fears for not knowing if everyone was okay.

"Owen was shot?" There's a soft voice from the doorway.

_Teddy_.

"I... yeah..." Lexie can't speak.

Teddy flees the room, no longer caring about telling Alex he's going to get better and she's glad that he is going to get better, because Owen. Was. Shot.

"Teddy!" Mark shouts, chasing after her down the hallway when he sees her take off. "_Teddy_!"

"What?"

"Where are you going?" He's caught up with her now and their feet drum a linear beat as they fly past the staring hospital folk.

"Owen was shot!" She says as she pushes open the doors to exit the hospital.

"What? When?" He briefly glances left, his sense of safety still in check as they cross the car park. Apparently her sense isn't.

"When Cristina was operating on Derek."

She's breathless from sprinting, and her voice is feint, but he understands.

"What?" Mark shrieks. "Derek?"

"Derek was shot too." He too loses his sense of safety as they cross the road.

They've been at Seattle Presbyterian all night, exhausted, and this is the first either has heard of their best friends being shot. They jog the ten miles to Seattle Grace-Mercy West, running being safer than driving in their current state, and when they barge through the hospital doors, cops flooding the place, they sprint for the ICU.

It's a weird sight, but Owen and Derek are side by side in their beds, Meredith and Cristina holding onto their hands and cutting circulation. Bailey, the Chief, Jackson... everyone still alive is in this room.

"Oh thank god," Teddy gasps, flinging herself at Cristina and Owen. "You're alive."

Mark's wrapped his arms around Callie, grinning happily at his best friend over her shoulder, his eyes tearing up.

It's not long until the arrival of these two sets everyone off. They're all shouting and crying that no one knew who was alive or who was dead, or what was going on, and they're all professing their love for anyone within earshot. Teddy mumbles consoling words about birds and best friends to April, Mark informs everyone of Alex and Lexie's current state, Bailey talks about Charles being so brave, Callie and Arizona mention the children, Richard talks about being helpless, Jackson talks about Cristina being a badass... Meredith and Cristina cry over their lovers' near-deaths.

Some of their thoughts flit to what it would be like if they were down in sunnier areas, away from the danger. Some of their thoughts turn to ethanol-filled bottles. Some of their thoughts head towards babies with tiny, fat fingers. But mostly, their thoughts are on those around them, clinging tight to the currently-breathing. It's one large, emotional room, but this is the safest place they know.

It's their sanctuary.

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
